


fever

by adietxt



Series: ABO-Verse [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alpha!Zoro, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, No dub-con/non-con. Shocking I know., Omega!Sanji, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adietxt/pseuds/adietxt
Summary: The world spins as soon Sanji opens his eyes.It feels odd, almost detached in a way, like a dense fog slowly filling his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to chase away the sensation, hoping his fever would subside soon, when he’s suddenly hit with a wave ofheatdeep in his belly, a litany oftake me take me take me—Oh. It isn’t a fever, he realizes belatedly, dread settling in his chest.He’s inheat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [fever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749280) by [hagane001](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hagane001/pseuds/hagane001)



> This is so self-indulgent I'm actually so embarrassed by myself... but I'm so thirsty and my crops are dying for a more canon-divergent version of A/B/O where they're still pirates but also with the additional A/B/O dynamics, so, here we are.

The world spins as soon Sanji opens his eyes.

It feels odd, almost detached in a way, like a dense fog slowly filling his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to chase away the sensation, hoping his fever would subside soon, when he’s suddenly hit with a wave of _heat_ deep in his belly, a litany of _take me take me take me —_

 _Oh_. It isn’t a fever, he realizes belatedly, dread settling in his chest.

He’s in _heat_.

He instantly scrambles to his feet, frantically checking his clothes _—_ none of his crewmates would’ve done anything, of course, but he still can’t help the fear that’s bubbling in his chest, pushing at the back of his throat, and he has to take a long, shuddering breath to calm himself down. His clothes are intact, he notes, and immediately feels sick for even suspecting his own _nakama_ , out of all people.

But then again, alphas aren’t usually themselves around omegas in heat. At least that’s what they say. Sanji isn’t really eager to find out how it really goes in practice.

He starts to walk towards the deck, trying to his best to ignore the way his body aches in unfamiliar ways, the low hum of _need_ crawling under his skin. He’s never experienced this before _—_ the Vinsmokes didn’t exactly appreciate having an omega for an heir, and Sanji has been forced to take suppressants long before he even presented. It became a habit, one that carried over even when he’d long left that pathetic excuse of a family, and before he knew it he was twenty-one and still hadn’t experienced his own heat.

Until yesterday, that is.

An inventory oversight and a storm that set their journey back by a couple of days, and for the first time throughout their journey, Sanji had run out of suppressants before they reached the next island.

Sunny is way too quiet, bobbling idly under his feet, so they must’ve finally reached the island when Sanji was asleep. It must be noon now, judging from the bright sunlight streaming into the windows of the bunk room. He distantly wonders who stayed behind to guard the ship, and half wishes it would be Brook _—_ he wouldn’t notice anything wrong with Sanji, considering he’s technically, well, dead. The betas in the crew are the next best scenarios _—_ Franky is easy to distract, Usopp and Chopper would be too freaked out to notice that it’s a heat, and Robin might notice but can keep a secret.

Sanji shudders at the idea of ending up with any of the alphas. The idea of being so… _vulnerable_ in front of Nami. Or Luffy, who doesn’t even seem to have any semblance of self-control. Or _—_

He is hit with another wave of _want_ , and he feels sick with horror when he notices the slickness of arousal pooling at the lower parts of his body. He hugs himself, instinctively, hating the way his knees start to buckle under his own weight, and he almost didn’t notice the bunk room door slamming open.

He looks up and sees Zoro.

Well. _Shit_.

“Cook?” Zoro asks, but Sanji is too distracted by the sudden assault of the alpha scent radiating off of Zoro to answer. He curls into himself, trying to shield himself from the scent to no avail.

“Cook…?” Zoro repeats, more alarmed; he quickly approaches Sanji before the situation finally dawns on him, and he stops in his track. “Are you… is this…?”

“Uh,” Sanji rasps, and feels his face flush _—_ in embarrassment or arousal, he doesn’t even know anymore. “Surprise?”

It…wasn’t exactly a secret, except when it was. It never exactly came up in conversations, and considering how often Sanji and Zoro go all territorial against each other, everyone just kind of assumed Sanji was another alpha.

Sanji feels another wave of pleasure washing over his body, and he must’ve released another heat-scent because Zoro makes a surprised, squeaking noise at the back of his throat. He also refuses to meet Sanji’s gaze, and the rejection stings more than Sanji expected it would.

Zoro must be disgusted with him. Which is expected, but still hurts all the same.

Sanji scrambles to sit up, propping his back against the wall _—_ he may have been betrayed by his own body, but he can at least try to retain some amount of dignity he has left. “Look,” he says, “I know it’s shocking to see me this pathetic, but I need you to focus, Marimo.”

Zoro blinks, almost like snapping out of a trance. “What?” He balks. “Why would I think — I’m not _—_ “

“It’s okay,” Sanji cuts him off. “I get it. So yeah, secret’s out, I guess.”

“You’re… this is…” Zoro stumbles over his own words, clearly frustrated. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“It never really came up before, did it?” Sanji says. He watches Zoro hover around him, clearly uncomfortable, keeping his distance _—_ fuck, he must be so repulsed by Sanji. Zoro has never had any qualms with personal space when any of his crewmates are in pain, so the fact that he’s refusing to go near Sanji right now is a clear sign of how revolting Sanji must be to him.

Sanji tries to shrug it off, ignoring the way his heart hums painfully against his chest at the thought. “Anyways, there’s nothing a mosshead like you can do in this situation, so just scram off.”

Zoro frowns. “What? Don’t you need, you know,” he clears his throat. “Another alpha?”

 _Take me claim me take me_ , the omega in him screams out, and Sanji closes his eyes, tamping it down. “I’ll… probably just ask for Luffy’s help when he comes back.”

There’s suddenly a surge of angry alpha pheromones filling in the room, and Zoro’s voice is a growl when he says, “what?”

Sanji’s first instinct is to recoil away, to _submit_ to the alpha in front of him. The thought disgusts him to the very core, so he tips his chin up defiantly, firing back, “Are you deaf? He might be oblivious, but Luffy’s an alpha. I’m sure he can help.”

“You don’t mean that,” Zoro says, and finally, _finally_ steps into Sanji’s personal space. The omega in Sanji purrs contentedly at the possessiveness in Zoro’s voice and body language, even when it’s only imaginary — _Zoro doesn’t want you_ , Sanji has to remind himself, stopping his own body from leaning into Zoro. “You’re not going to ask _Luffy_ , out of all people.”

“How do you know?” Sanji spits out, taunting. “It’s not like I have much choice.”

Zoro looks away at that, but doesn’t step away. When he speaks again, it’s low, almost uncertain, “I can help you.”

Sanji’s heart stutters against his ribcage. “What?”

Zoro visibly swallows. “I mean, you’re clearly in need, and I’m,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Never mind, this is stupid.”

Zoro is clearly struggling with something. Sanji is usually good at reading him, but right now all he can think of is the way his skin starts to heat up — _take me claim me mate me_ — and before he can stop himself he is tangling his right hand in Zoro’s haramaki and whines, breathless, “ _Zoro_.”

Zoro _leaps_ away at the touch like he was on fire, and Sanji feels his heart drop and clatter around his feet.

Zoro visibly freezes, clearly realizing what he’s done. “Cook, I —“ he says, hand hovering around Sanji’s shoulder, but Sanji got the message, loud and clear.

“Get out,” he growls, curling into himself and away from Zoro.

“It’s not what you think,” Zoro tries, but Sanji has had enough of the alpha.

“I said get out!” Sanji yells, losing control of his own emotions. “Why do you care? _You’re not my alpha_!”

Something must have struck a chord, because Zoro immediately drops his hand from Sanji’s shoulder and steps away. He looks at Sanji for a moment, and Sanji would’ve mistaken it for concern if he didn’t know any better. Zoro is repulsed by him. Concern is probably the last thing on Zoro’s mind.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he forces himself to say, and turns away so he doesn’t have to watch Zoro wordlessly walk out of the room.

 _I’m sorry please don’t leave me take me take me take me_ —

Sanji buries his face in his hands and refuses to think about the swordsman any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Zoro is going to lose his  _mind_.

Not only he just found out that the person he’s been in love with for the longest time was an omega, that very person is apparently _going into heat_ , just one door away from him. The air is thick with Sanji’s heat-scent, drifting from the male bunk room, and Zoro’s mind is choked with _mine mine mine_ repeating over and over again like a mantra. He bites his lower lip until he starts drawing blood, hands balled tightly into fists. Sanji smells so _good_ , and Zoro wants to take him, claim him, make the cook _his_ —

His own train of thoughts takes him by surprise, and shame washes over him. He should have better control over his own instinct. _The cook doesn’t want you_ , he reminds himself, and he can live with this, has been living with this fact for the past two years. He will keep his emotions in check, for Sanji’s sake. For everyone’s sake.

He smells Luffy and Nami before he even sees them.

This has never happened before, but the presence of an unmated omega in heat must have heightened his sense of smell, his instinct on high alert for any potential competition. He tears his gaze away from the door of the bunk room just as Nami climbs onto the deck, followed by Robin and Luffy.

“Hey, Zoro!” Nami calls out, oblivious to the current situation. “Is Sanji-kun with you?”

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and irrational and downright _ridiculous_ , because it’s not like Nami is looking for Sanji to _sleep_ with the cook, but the question still ignites something dark and possessive in the pit of Zoro’s stomach. He snaps, “what do you want?”

Nami blinks, startled by Zoro’s aggressiveness. “Zoro? What’s with you…”

The question dies on her lips as another wave of heat assaults the three alphas on the ship. Zoro watches as Nami and Luffy straighten up, their eyes darkening, and Zoro’s hands move towards his swords without thinking as he steps in front of the bunk door, putting himself in between Sanji and the two alphas.

Robin looks between her crewmates, a worried expression etched across her face — she probably hasn’t noticed Sanji’s heat-scent, being a beta herself, and the sudden hostility must be confusing for her.

Nami is the one who speaks up first. “Did you just bring an omega in heat to the ship?” She says, almost in a snarl. She takes a few strides towards Zoro. “What were you thinking? Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?”

Zoro growls back, voice deeper, rougher, almost feral. “I won’t let you get in there.”

“I think,” Robin says, her tone careful and tentative, “we should first calm down —“

“So I was right?” Nami cuts her off uncharacteristically, the heat-scent affecting her emotions. “You _did_ bring an omega to our ship —“

"It's none of your business, I won't let you take one step closer —"

“That’s Sanji behind the door, isn’t it,” Luffy suddenly speaks up.

The arguments die as everyone goes quiet, shocked. All eyes turn to Zoro, who immediately flushes deep red, feeling like a kid being caught with a hand halfway into the cookie jar. Roronoa Zoro, losing himself over an omega. Losing himself over _Sanji_. There’s also a flash of anger, knowing that Luffy recognizes _Sanji_ ’s scent, but it’s mostly drowned by the shame.

Zoro’s silence is answer enough, and Nami’s hand shoots up to cover her mouth, astonished by the revelation. “But I always thought…” She glances towards Robin for confirmation. “We all thought Sanji-kun was an alpha.”

Zoro remembers his earlier conversation with Sanji and it troubles him how little he knows about the cook, how much their ignorance must have hurt Sanji. “He never said he was,” he shrugs, defeated. “We just…assumed. Wrongly.” 

There’s still tension in the air, but it is mostly biological; an instinctive, bodily reaction to the thick scent in the air. Emotionally, they’re no longer on opposite sides of the divide, trying to tear each other down.

Nami shrinks away from Zoro, eyes looking anywhere but the bunk room. “Is there anything we can do?” She asks, more towards her feet than at Zoro.

 _I want to take him. I want to mate him, mark him, fill him up and make him mine mine mine_ —

“We need to find Chopper,” he forces himself to say, ignoring the coarseness of his voice. “The cook didn’t want any help from an alpha, so we might have to check if it’s still okay for him to take some suppressants…”

Zoro couldn’t bring himself to mention the fact that Sanji may have considered a help from Luffy, even for a brief moment. The memory still fills him with irrational rage, gripping his chest in a suffocating vice, and he needs to physically shake his head to calm himself down. Infighting among the crew is the last thing Sanji needs right now.

“Right,” Nami agrees, and starts dragging Luffy towards the railings of the ship, “we’ll look around the island for Chopper, and maybe Robin can grab some suppressants just in case —“ she pauses in her track, and turns to face Zoro, face serious. “You’re going to keep Sanji safe, right?”

There’s something in between the lines there, an unvoiced question, echoing in the space between them. _You’re not going to do anything to Sanji, are you, Zoro?_

But there’s also the underlying _trust_ in the way Nami says it, unwavering and absolute. Zoro will not harm Sanji — Nami believes this with all her heart. She only needs Zoro to meet her halfway and confirm her trust.

Zoro’s heart is pounding in his chest, his hands clammy with sweat. Sanji’s scent lingers in the air, strong and sweet, and for a split second he entertains the idea of Sanji’s body flush against his own, pliant and willing, offering himself for Zoro to claim — but then he thinks of _Sanji_ , his equal, his partner in crime. Sanji, who can take whatever Zoro can give him, and return in kind. There’s no one in the world deserving of Zoro’s respect more than Sanji, and a couple drops of pheromones in the air wouldn’t change that.

“You have my word,” he tells Nami, and she smiles at him, satisfied.

Zoro decides to sit down in front of the bunk room, back against the door. He folds his arms across his chest, swords tucked against his hips, ready to be drawn anytime. He’ll protect Sanji, as  _nakama_.

He watches Robin and Nami climb back down to the ground until there’s only Luffy, standing at the railing. Luffy suddenly turns towards Zoro, a rubbery grin stretched across his face.

“Silly Zoro,” Luffy says with a carefree chuckle, “why would I go in there when Sanji is clearly calling out for you?”

And before Zoro can ask what the captain actually _means_ by that, Luffy launches himself out of the ship, leaving a dumbstruck Zoro behind.


	3. Chapter 3

Sanji regains his consciousness to a crying Chopper, and he half-wishes he was unconscious again.

“Sanji!” The reindeer bawls and launches himself towards Sanji, burying his face into Sanji’s chest. “I was so worried!”

Sanji pats Chopper on the head, and notices the IV attached to his right arm. Its tube is connected to a bag filled with colorless liquid he assumes to be liquid suppressants. Which is working well, judging from the way he’s feeling now — there’s still pain and heat, mostly pooling at the lower region of his body, but it’s a dull ache now.

It takes a few minutes for Chopper to calm down, and when he does, he lifts his head and looks up with wide teary eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I’m your doctor!”

 _It never really came up_ , Sanji wants to say, but that excuse isn’t exactly true, not with Chopper. Sanji has been deliberately avoiding the doctor when it comes to full check-ups, and considering Chopper’s hands are always full with the Straw Hats’ constant injuries from their silly antics, it wasn’t exactly hard to distract him.

Not that Sanji _wanted_ to lie to Chopper. It’s just that — it really had never come up before with the East Blue crew, and by the time Chopper joined, everyone had already assumed that Sanji was an alpha.

(Sanji also remembers the way Judge’s face contorted in disgust, the way Ichiji would sneer, _omega_ , like an insult, and he just couldn’t do it, couldn’t admit this part of him out loud —)

It’s still not a good reason, especially when Chopper only wanted the best for him, so Sanji swallowed all his excuses and simply says, “I’m sorry.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because fresh tears start to gather around Chopper’s eyes. “We were so scared!” He bawls, lightly hitting Sanji’s chest with his hooves. “You were in such a bad condition when I arrived, everyone was so terrified! We thought you’d die! Your body didn’t know how to handle the sudden increase in pheromone production so homeostasis didn’t really kick in —“

Sanji lets him go on a rant, his hooves bump against Sanji’s torso in a light _pat, pat, pat_. It’s calming in its familiarity, so much that it takes Sanji by surprise when Chopper’s rant starts to meander towards Zoro as the kid blabbers, “—didn’t help that Zoro was also half-unconscious in front of the bunk room! He forced himself to stay there, fending off any alpha who walked past the ship…”

“Wait,” Sanji cuts in and tries to sit up. “Did you just say Zoro?”

Chopper tilts his head in confusion before nodding.

Sanji frowns — he barely has any clear memory of the incident. “Are we even talking about the same Zoro here? That shitty swordsman?”

“Of course!” Chopper huffs, and his tone goes all professional, doctor-mode. “He stubbornly stayed even when he was already so inundated with excessive amount of your heat-pheromone. I actually had to give him some suppressants too; it was a surprise that he didn’t throw up even once.”

Sanji’s stomach curls with guilt at that.

But before he can ask more questions about what happened, the infirmary door slams open. As if summoned, Zoro walks into the room.

“Chopper,” he says, gesturing at somewhere behind his back, “Robin is looking for you.”

Chopper looks torn between Sanji and the door, so Sanji nudges his shoulder. “I feel better already, you know. You can leave me for five minutes.”

“But…"

“Come on, the Marimo’s here,” Sanji says, and immediately flushes at the implication that he’s practically _asking_ Zoro to stay. He clears his throat. “And I wouldn’t worry if I were you — I got the best doctor in all five seas to look after me.”

“Praising me like that doesn’t make me happy, bastard!” Chopper says, but he’s smiling and twirling, and there’s a bounce in his step as he exits the sick bay.

The door closes with a soft _click_ , and Sanji is instantly hyper aware that there are only him and Zoro left in the room.

Sanji clears his throat again.

“Uh,” he says, and looks anywhere but Zoro’s eyes. “Thanks.”

Zoro crosses his arms and leans against the wall, furthest from Sanji’s bed. “For what?”

“For not, you know —“ Sanji hates that he has to spell this out loud, but that’s _Zoro_ for you. Oblivious, shameless oaf. “Jumping me.”

“Jumping —“ it took Zoro a few seconds before the meaning of the word dawns on him. “I’m not — it’s not something —“ he sputters. “It’s not something I should be thanked for. It’s the least _anyone_ can do.”

“You could’ve, though,” Sanji says, memories of his disastrous first heat still so visceral, so _real_ he can feel it crawling under his skin, and he hugs himself instinctively. “Especially when I was so weak.”

That somehow gets a raise out of Zoro, who visibly straightens himself. “You’re not _weak_ , cook,” he grits out. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, and this doesn’t change that. Doesn’t make you weak.”

Shit. Sanji feels like curling into himself further — Zoro is saying things he has always wanted to hear, and it’s making it so difficult for him not to be hopeful. “I was still such an asshole,” he says, trying to distract himself from his own omega that preens under an alpha’s attention. And not just any alpha — it’s _Zoro_. “You really could’ve done anything, and I wouldn’t even lift a finger.”

“Tch,” Zoro grunts dismissively, but doesn’t argue further. There’s silence for a moment, before Zoro adds, quietly, almost like an afterthought, “— you made it pretty clear that it wasn’t me that you wanted.”

Sanji blinks. Now _that’s_ a new information for him. “What? When did I ever say that?”

Zoro flushes red. “It’s stupid.”

“Humor me,” Sanji fires back.

Zoro scratches the bridge of his nose, clearly embarrassed now. Sanji feels something light in his chest from seeing it, knowing that he’s one of the few — if not the _only_ — people who can get such reaction out of Zoro. “You, uh,” Zoro sputters, “I don’t know if you remember, but you asked for Luffy.”

That startles a laugh out of Sanji. “ _Luffy_? You think I’m into Luffy?”

Zoro scowls, though his death glare is completely betrayed by the red tints on his cheeks. “I don’t know, okay, you asked for him!”

“Because he’s our captain!” Sanji says, in between peals of laughter. “Who else was I going to ask? Nami-san?”

“Well, I also did. Offer.”

The words were delivered so quietly that Sanji would’ve missed it, if it weren’t from Zoro’s surprised expression — like he’s shocked himself from saying it out loud.

“What?” Sanji says, because what _else_ can he say?

“Never mind. It’s,” Zoro shrugs. “I offered. You refused. Got that loud and clear.”

Zoro now looks like he’d rather eat all three of his swords than admitting to it, but admit he did, and the truth is laid bare for Sanji to see.

For the first time since the conversation started, Sanji realizes the bandage on Zoro’s arm. He remembers Chopper’s story — how Zoro took suppressants because he got too sick drowning in Sanji’s scent — and Sanji is suddenly overwhelmed by the extent of Zoro’s devotion and _sacrifice_ for him.

Zoro looks like he’s steeling himself for a rejection, which is _dumb_ and _stupid_ and _holy shit, doesn’t this oblivious bastard know how Sanji feels_ , and the thought that Zoro likes him back and wants him that way is dizzying, so Sanji does what he knows best when it comes to Zoro.

Sanji kicks him in the head.

“What the hell, cook?” Zoro yells, rubbing the spot where Sanji’s foot has been.

“I’m going to say this once, dumbass,” Sanji begins, and somewhat rants, because he can’t believe he’s actually saying this, “you’re an idiot for assuming shit, and you can’t be more _wrong_ about me, though I don’t expect any better from your moss brain in the first place.” He crosses his arms and goes on, “anyways, Chopper did say it’s not good to keep taking suppressants, so if the offer still stands the next time it hits, uh, I wouldn’t mind taking you up on that offer.”

There’s a pause.

Zoro _stares_ at him at that, wide-eyed. “What are you saying.”

“You heard me,” Sanji snaps, because he’s going to _die_ if he has to repeat everything he just said.

A series of expressions flit across Zoro’s face — surprise, hope, hesitation. His face is serious when he says, “Don’t you dare joke about this.”

Sanji smiles a little at the seriousness in Zoro’s tone, and the low heat that’s beginning to pool at the bottom of his stomach again doesn’t scare him as much as it did. “I would never joke about this, idiot.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink, before Zoro’s face splits into a smile, tension visibly bleeding out from his shoulders. Sanji wants to touch him, wants to feel the way his lips turn up and trace the scar across his eye.

But he can feel the echoes of his heat rumbling at the back of his head, fighting against the suppressants flowing through his veins, and he feels tired all of a sudden. Chopper’s meds must have been stronger than the stuff he usually takes, and he’ll need to flush it out of his system first before he can do… _stuff._

 _Certain_ stuff he always wanted to do with Zoro.

He feels his face heat up at the thought, and sputters before he loses the courage to say it, “the second wave is probably sometime tonight so if it’s all right, we can find a place and I…” he breathes in, breathes out. “I’m not going to take any suppressants anymore.”

For a moment he’s suddenly scared that he’s been reading things wrong the whole time, but then Zoro’s hand covers his, gentler in a way he never thought Zoro was capable of. “I got you, Cook.”

Sanji squeezes back, and for the first time in his life as an omega, he feels safe.


	4. Chapter 4

Zoro is calm.

Calm and _collected_ , like an adult that he is. An adult alpha who’s going to mate with an omega he’s been crushing on for the past two years, sure, but still an adult. He has trained all his life the art of self control, and he’s not about to lose it now.

Even when Sanji has told him that he’s allowed to do everything to him. _Everything_.

Zoro feels his cock twitches at the thought, and glares at his own reflection in the mirror. _You’re Roronoa Zoro,_ he tells himself, hands gripping the edge of the sink tightly. _And you’re going to take the Cook slowly, at his pace._

He feels kind of ridiculous for giving himself a pep talk, but he recognizes its merit — he can feel his own heartbeat slowing down and doesn’t feel like tearing Sanji’s shirt open the moment he lays his eyes on the Cook. He’s calm. He was calm enough to get them a room at the first inn he can find, calm enough to slide the workers some extra berries (courtesy of Nami, fuck, he’s going to be indebted to her _forever_ ) to stay away from their room all night, calm enough to wait for Sanji to come to the room after Chopper gives him the go. He’s got this. He’s _calm_.

He hears the door swing open, followed by Sanji’s, “Zoro? You there?”

Zoro practically slams the bathroom door open.

Sanji is standing by the door, hand still on the knob, having just closed it. He’s wearing his usual blue-shirt black-slacks combination, but Zoro knows where to look — his slightly mussed hair, his blown pupils, his ragged breaths. His shirts are sloppily tucked into his pants, and the scent of arousal is practically _radiating_ off of Sanji’s skin.

Every nerve in Zoro’s body springs to life at the sight of him, his blood rushing a little faster, his mouth falling open.

“If you changed your mind,” Sanji begins, the hesitation back in his voice, but Zoro is having none of it.

“Fuck, _Cook_ ,” Zoro stutters, crossing the room towards him, the tail of the word tripping drunkenly over his tongue. “I’ve thought of this — _wanted_ this for so long —”

“Zoro,” Sanji starts breathlessly, relief flooding his voice. His hands come up to span Zoro’s biceps, pulling him in. “I want — I _need_ —”

“I got you,” Zoro says, embracing the Cook in turn — runs his hand through the lock of blonde hair, over the span of skin of Sanji’s exposed collarbone, everywhere, _anywhere_. “I got you,” he repeats, and finally, _finally_ dives into a kiss, and another, little dips of kisses against Sanji’s lips.

“Yes,” Sanji says, breathing into him, eager and wanting. Sanji is chasing his lips now, mouthing at the corners of it, and Zoro runs his thumbs at the Cook’s cheekbones, wondering it all of this is real, Sanji willing and panting underneath him and — _fuck_.

Sanji starts rutting against him, hungry and impatient, and the wave of his heat seems to spiral up through Zoro’s stomach, along his spine — a hot, heavy pulse of it — and Zoro gives in to his instincts as he lifts Sanji by the hips and dumps him unceremoniously onto the bed.

“Lay on your back,” the order falls off his lips before he can stop himself. “Take your shirt off.”

He half-expects Sanji to kick him then and there, but the Cook simply flushes red. Zoro watches in wonder as he does as Zoro says, clumsily unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the ground before making quick work on his pants.

Zoro exhales, just staring at the Cook, and watches as Sanji hesitates before slipping out of his boxers, too, face visibly heating up but confident, almost defiant, in the way he doesn’t break eye contact with Zoro. It’s reassuring, in a way, a reminder that this is not just a random omega succumbing to his lust but _Sanji_ , the head-strong and stubborn and prideful Sanji that he knows and fell in love with.

Sanji stays still for all of ten seconds before he begins to squirm, chest heaving as waves of arousal roll off of him. Zoro decides to take pity on him and climbs on top of Sanji, occasionally dropping to pepper kisses on the flushed body beneath him — along his hip bone, underneath his collar bone, teasing licks on his nipples, before finally reaching his lips.

“So needy,” Zoro growls, teasing. He tangles his hand between Sanji’s blonde locks and _tugs_ , and Sanji bares his neck almost instinctively. Zoro immediately latches onto the skin, setting a moderate pace of sucking and licking that earns him louder and louder moans from Sanji.

He moves lower then, giving Sanji’s nipples as much attention as he did with his neck, sucking and rubbing them gently between his fingers. Sanji is panting beneath him now, fingers clenching and unclenching against the bedspread. “ _Zoro_ —”

“I know, I know,” Zoro chuckles breathlessly, fascinated by the display in front of him — of Sanji, surrendering himself completely to Zoro. He slides his hand towards the inside of Sanji’s thighs, rubbing it affectionately before nudging Sanji’s legs apart. He trails his fingers all the way down to his slick entrance, presses against it but not inside. “You really want this, don’t you?”

Sanji groans and hitches his hip to push against Zoro’s finger. “You _think_? Just fuck me, asshole.”

Zoro grins and slides a finger in him. Sanji grips the bedspread until his knuckles are white, rocking back onto Zoro’s hand.

“Come on, wanna hear you,” Zoro murmurs against Sanji’s thigh, one finger pumping a steady rhythm in and out of the Cook that has him on the verge of whining. “Come on, Cook,” he demands, finger slipping deeper into the slick heat.

Sanji’s breath shudders at the movement, and Zoro takes that moment to fully grasp a stiff nipple with his free hand and twist it slightly. Sanji surges against the alpha, mouth open with a small breathless keen that turns into  little panting noises as Zoro works him open, adding a second finger when he knows Sanji is ready.

Sanji is a mess, hands scrambling at nothing and letting out delicious noises with every thrust of Zoro’s fingers. At one point Zoro crooks his fingers a little, and a loud moan escapes Sanji’s lips. Zoro grins at the way Sanji flushes in embarrassment, making sure he keeps hitting that spot with every thrust and watching the Cook fall apart. He doesn’t even seem to realize when Zoro adds a third finger.

Sanji smells so good, like rain and spice and smoke and Zoro wants to take him, _now_.

“Zoro,” Sanji suddenly says, words slurred against his tongue. “Zoro, I’m good. Fuck, I’m good, _please_.”

Sanji whines at the sudden empty feeling when Zoro pulls out, but the swordsman is busy tearing his own clothes off. He almost fell over when wiggling out of his haramaki, just managing to catch himself at the last minute.

When he returns to Sanji, his initial hesitation overwhelms him. “Cook —” Zoro swallows, and licks his lips absentmindedly, testing the name on his tongue. “Sanji. Sanji, can I —”

“Zoro. Zoro, look at me,” Sanji says, and Zoro practically chokes on nothing when Sanji reaches up, tangles their hands together and pulls them down to press the palm of Zoro’s hand against the Sanji’s already straining erection. “I’m _yours_.”

It’s all Zoro needs to hear; he lines up the head of his cock, pushing his way in slowly.

Sanji lets out a breathless moan, hips hitching up to try to push back and take in more of Zoro, and before he knows it Sanji’s legs have wrapped around him and _pushes_ and there’s nothing Zoro can do but _take_.

When he’s pushed all the way in, Zoro has to pause and collect himself. It looks obscene, Sanji’s body opening to swallow him like that. Sanji has closed his eyes again, and spread beneath Zoro, head tipped back against the pillows, Sanji is the most beautiful thing Zoro has ever seen. _I want him_ , Zoro thinks, and it’s not the heat or the hormones speaking. Zoro wants Sanji, more than anything, more than he can remember wanting anyone.

Zoro leans forward then, placing his hands on the sides of Sanji’s head, caging him. Sanji moans at the movement, hips bending to accommodate Zoro’s position, and Zoro thanks the gods he doesn’t believe in for the Cook’s flexibility.

“You feel so fucking good,” he tells him.

“So good, apparently, that you don’t bother to fucking _move_ ,” Sanji slurs, half-lidded eyes glaring at him.

Zoro huffs, a grin finding its way to his expression. He pushes himself back up. “Still wouldn’t shut up even in heat, huh?”

Sanji opens his mouth to retort, but Zoro’s faster — he pulls out, slowly, and whatever reply Sanji had dies on his lips. All that came out instead was a high-pitched whine, and Zoro takes it as his cue to slam back in. From there he picks up a steady pace of fucking the Cook into the mattress.

Sanji moans wantonly, hands gripping Zoro’s so tightly his knuckles start to turn white. Zoro lets go of one of his hands to hold Sanji’s hips, holding him firmly in place as he pounds into him, and Sanji’s free hand immediately grapples with the sheets, sweat-soaked hair splayed against the mattress, a litany of, “Zoro, Zoro, _Zoro_ —” falling from his lips —

“You feel that, Cook?” The words spilling from Zoro’s mouth at the sight, unbidden, “Feel my knot starting to swell? You look so fucking good like this, _Sanji_ — so beautiful, hanging off my cock —”

Sanji whimpers, and whines out a broken, “ _Zoro_.”

The bed is creaking under the force of Zoro’s thrusts, and Zoro couldn’t care less as he picks up speed.

Zoro drapes his weight over Sanji again, kissing the expanse of the skin that he can reach, coming back to the base of Sanji’s neck every now and then. The change of angle seems to agree with Sanji, who’s letting out delicious, broken little moans with every thrust. Zoro isn’t going to last long, not with Sanji’s tight heat engulfing him like this, and neither is Sanji, from the way he bits out in between moans, a breathy, “Zoro, fuck, Zoro, feels so good, I can’t, I _can’t_ —”

Zoro sinks his teeth into the base of Sanji’s neck, and Sanji lets out a soft, _ah_.

Zoro can smell the rush of arousal at the act of claiming, and it’s all it takes for Zoro’s knot to catch, locking him and Sanji together, and Sanji is coming untouched with a whimper and a full body shudder. Zoro feels the muscles of Sanji’s ass tightening around his cock and _pushes_ him over the edge, drawing a growl from his throat as he rides it out, the Cook milking him for all he’s worth.

It takes them both a moment before they come down from the rush, the only sound filling the room is their heavy breathing. Zoro listens to Sanji’s breathing, revelling in the way Sanji’s chest shudders beneath him before the Cook huffs out a, “ _fuck_.”

Zoro chuckles at that. “You’re welcome.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Sanji says, but his tone is light, teasing. Zoro can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I just — still can’t believe. That this is all happening, for real.”

Zoro wants to agree with the sentiment, except he’s now looking at Sanji’s neck, with the mark staring back at him. The mark that _he_ left on Sanji’s skin, a proof that Sanji is his.

He licks at the bite, and Sanji hums approvingly at the gesture, running his hand through Zoro’s hair. Sanji smells sweet, sweeter than the bed of flowers on Sunny, and Zoro trails kisses over the mark, along his jaw, before finding his way back to Sanji’s mouth.

Their kisses are softer this time, almost lazy, now that most of the edge has been taken off of Sanji. Zoro wraps an arm around Sanji and pulls him against his body, and suddenly he knows he needs to say it out loud, to Sanji, to the whole goddamn _world_ — “I love you. You know that, right? This isn’t just about your heat. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I —”

Sanji shuts him up with another kiss. “I’m not _blind_ , Shitty Swordsman,” he huffs, and flushes red as he says, “I love you too, you dumbass.”

Something unfurls within his ribcage at the words, and Zoro dips his head, overwhelmed. He decides to nuzzle the base of Sanji’s neck instead, lips pressed against the mark once again. _Their_ mark.

“You’re mine,” he declares, and silently preens at the wave of pleasure that comes off of Sanji at that. He’s still buried deep in Sanji, and the Cook smirks at him from below as he shifts, cock pressing against the Swordsman‘s abdomen, already half-hard again from the heat.

“And you’re mine,” he replies, face flushed with happiness and arousal. “You ready for round two?”

Zoro, as always, is ready for whatever Sanji can give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... I'm finally done!
> 
> Thank you for coming along on this ride of self-indulgence with me. This is the Zosan fic I've always wanted to read, with all the tropes I liked, and the fact that so many of you end up enjoying this little venture of self-indulgence brings me unspeakable joy. Thank you for all the comments/kudos/bookmarks/etc, and thank you for sticking around even after literal months of no update.
> 
> I may add more fics to this verse whenever inspiration strikes, but for now the series will be marked as finished. Feel free to leave me a message to talk about possible scenarios happening in this verse, and have a good day!


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